Further along

I almost missed the azalea's short lived blooms, tucked away in the far corner of the garden. My energies have been directed elsewhere - making sure I don't miss a moment of the remaining time we have as a couple - as a family. 

John's condition has deteriorated very quickly over the last couple of weeks. I was managing on my own, then with the help of the District Nurse team and our GP, but as we went along it became clear that he needed full time care. He was admitted to hospital on Friday, where they have been working to get on top of his acute symptoms. We have just been spending time with him, holding his hand, reading out loud and chatting, catching a bit of crochet in the gaps. My step-daughter is here, taking some of the burden, helping with James, folding laundry (much more nearly than I do) and spending precious moments  with her Dad. 

It was good for me to share some time in between hospital visits, with James on his own, snuggling on the sofa, eating ice cream (raspberry magnums) and watching rubbish telly. He is doing ok, he knows where this is going.

And we move on, through these cycles of hope and despair, somehow adapting to each new phase, finding whatever grains of normality we can and holding on - yes, just really holding on.

Tomorrow, John is moving to our local Hospice. Another stage, another leap into uncharted waters.  We don't know for how long, or if he will be well enough to come home at any point - but here we are. He is at peace with this decision and I know we will all be cared for. 

I cannot begin to say how much strength I have gained from the kindness of others; from friends in the community, family, our church family and the genuine and loving comments online.  It helps - it really does. Thank you.  xx

This Moment

Sharing a moment that I want to remember. No words, just a single special image. Joining in with Soulemama for This Moment. Wishing you all a precious  weekend. xx

Where we are now

Hello - it's been a while. I've been pretty busy,getting on with bits and pieces, lots of family visitors have been with us, and more plan to be here in the coming months. Broadband signal has not been great on the island for some reason either, so there hasn't been the same incentive to haul out the laptop. John has had a couple of more spells in hospital since I last posted, and hasn't been doing as well as we hoped. A new round of chemotherapy has been delayed,until his blood results improve, and his mobility has decreased. It is a strange place to be, this, but it is where we are. I guess life has contracted right down to the basics, and we are living in a bit of a bubble right now. A very blessed bubble, mind you, as we draw together and try to work our way through this.
Love to all xxx

Into the wind

It has been blowing a gale today - again. It feels as if this wind has never stopped since the New Year. I took Mick for his usual walk down to the pier, this afternoon, and it was all I could do to push myself through the force field of the oncoming wind. The way home was much quicker, though.

There have been other storms in our lives this week too - battling against this wind of cancer. John had some new pain and weakness, and a CT scan hinted at something suspicious a bit higher up from where the spinal tumour was operated on. He was flown over to the mainland for an MRI scan which showed some new metastases in a couple of other spots in the bones of his spine. It is being treated with more radiotherapy, and we hope to have him back next week.

James and I have stayed home this time. We couldn't go on the helicopter, and the gales mean that the ferries are not running. John said he wanted me to have a rest, and to keep things running as normally as possible at home for James, who has had a lot of disruption over the last year. It wasn't an easy decision; we guessed he was likely to be told it was a progression of the disease, but probably on balance, it was the best call.
 The last week or so has been quite a difficult time, as his pain and anxiety increased. We have had some hard conversations - those important ones that you never imagine having to have. We are just beginning to work out the steps of this new dance,  although there are some sudden changes in tempo that catch us out often. A friend, whose husband also has cancer, said to me today that, although each new setback feels so devastating,  we somehow learn to accommodate that new situation and move forward. It's true. We keep on keeping on - what else would we do?
So - this week,  I have been waiting at home, staying busy with the everyday - feeding the hens,

planting seeds, 

cooking nourishing food,

casting on a new project with a giant ball of wool,

lighting the fire, watching tv and eating ice cream - just keeping time.

and at least I know he's been well looked after today. xx

In celebration

Last year was not one of the best for us, its fair to say. John's diagnosis of cancer in spring took the ground from under our feet and cast us into a twilight world where we just had to keep our heads down, hold our breath and hope for the odd pocket of air. We passed the summer in different hospitals, as he had spinal surgery and then radiotherapy. The autumn was spent lurching from one chemotherapy treatment to the next, with all the attendant side effects - nausea, exhaustion, pneumonia..... In early winter he had a couple of scans to see how the various treatments had worked. We knew just before Christmas that his lung lesion had shrunk by a couple of centimeters, and on New Year's day, the neurosurgeon rang to say he was happy that the spinal tumour had remained stable. We are so grateful to all skillful and compassionate doctors for their care.

So now, there will be some maintenance chemo next year, to keep on top of things, but we are hopeful that he will have a long period of remission ahead.

It's not cured, we know that, and he certainly wont be able to lead the active life he has been used to, but we have him with us, and right now - that's enough for me.

I have to thank everyone here who has prayed for us, thought about us, worried for us and sent love to us. I found such comfort and support here, as we were going through this. I am so grateful for each one of you. Prayer works - Thank You Lord.

Around the Croft

 

It's been so long since I posted a croft update - two whole seasons have come and gone and here we are heading into Winter already. Even James remarked this evening on what a quick year it has been.  This year has been so different for us, with John's cancer diagnosis and treatment, and all our focus has been on just getting through.

The work still goes on though - and I've had to keep a lot of plates spinning over the last 6 months. I've managed - just, and I've had help from friends and neighbours too. But, there's no getting away from it - changes have had to be made to suit our current circumstances.

The livestock have been sold. The sheep went to the August sales, and the cattle were bought by a lovely man who is building up a new Dexter herd. We were sad to see them go, but it really was the best decision for me - and for them too. My step-daughter was here to lend a hand, as well as some of our neighbours, and we soon had them loaded and on their way.

Their new owner is delighted with them, and, reassuringly sent this picture of them enjoying the lush pastures. I have to say, too, that during the recent gales and storms here, it was a real relief not to have to worry about them.

The sheep and lambs went to the mainland too, but we still have a flock on the croft. One of our neighbour's is using our top field for tupping. The ram is fitted with a harness containing a coloured marker. When he has had his wicked way with a ewe, the evidence will be clearly visible ;) A different colour is used each week, until all the sheep have been covered. It's a good way to work out when the lambing season will begin and end.

The garden was badly neglected this year. There have been some small harvests - and I still have chard and broccoli on the go, but there have been a few steps backwards this year. Never mind - the garden will still be there next season.

I'm still picking sweet tomatoes, though - very pleased about that.

I planted a lot of spring bulbs outside, but I am going to do tulips in pots this year. The ground is just too wet for them, so I will bring them on and then plant the pot out. I've brought a few plants and cuttings in to overwinter in the polytunnel. You can see the broad bean plants, still in their root-trainers, where they gave been since last Spring. When I, at last, got a chance to plant them out in June, I found they had rooted solidly into the ground. Obviously they didn't do terribly well in that restricted space, but I managed to get a few pods, which have been saved for next year's seed.

All summer, I have been steeping herbs and fruit in vodka. Now they have been strained out and the liquor added to a sugar syrup. By Christmas time, they will be just perfect for tippling. I have fennel, elderflower and raspberry. 

So that's my quick roundup of crofting matters for now. I'm sure there has been more, and certainly there have been ideas and plans for the future discussed, but so much is on hold while we wait to see how John's treatment has worked out. Next week we travel to the hospital on the mainland to see the neurosurgeon and oncologist, so we should have a clearer idea of where we are then. xx

Constancy and change

It has been a long time - a lost time, really. So much happening, and yet nothing much has changed. The sun still rises and sets and the rain falls - sometimes even at the same time!

The tide rises and falls, and the waves crash in - each one leaving its own unique, elusive pattern, yet the eternal rhythm beats on.
There is such a comfort in the constancy of nature - the reassuring optimism of each new day -  of every new wave breaking on the shore. Such  relentless hope...

There have been a few setbacks. An emergency admission to hospital with pneumonia and pleurisy, and a subsequent pulmonary embolism meant that John's chemotherapy regime was delayed. Thankfully he has now recovered and is back on track with his treatment - one more cycle to go. A preliminary scan shows that the spinal tumour has shrunk, the lung lesion has not grown, and the disease appears to be "stable". Rain followed by sunshine ... and flowers still bloom in the garden.

Tomatoes grow and ripen, despite my neglectful stewardship. Sungold cherry is a clear winner - little bombs of pure sweetness lighten up this dark time.  

My trusty travelling companion - another constant feature in my life. Funny how animals just know... and he certainly does. I am glad he is here, with that unconditional gaze.
We didn't get Independence. Such a disappointment. I was genuinely shocked at how grief stricken I was after the result. All those hopes - dashed. Forty-five percent of us voted for Scotland to become an independent nation - so close. I am still upset, but I believe we will get there one day - soon.

So - it may be low tide right now, but, you know, soon enough the surf will come sweeping up over the beach, obliterating our footprints, creating the shoreline anew. There is such hope in that thought - solace in the constancy of change. xx

Last days of Summer

The heather is blooming now, turning the hillsides into a haze of purple. It's a lovely sight, but a sure sign that Autumn is on the horizon.

The school holidays are over again, although we enjoyed the very last evening on our favourite beach.

We also managed to pick some of the brambles growing down by the shore, before the birds finished them off - so we have some tiny jars of blackberry jelly!

We've been eating fresh salad from the polytunnel every day...

... and the tomatoes are beginning to ripen. Slowly, mind you, but still, it's more than I had expected.

The vegetable garden has been pretty much neglected this year - I lost two lots of seedlings while we were on the mainland for John's hospital treatments, and the raised beds have become choked with weeds. Ah well - nothing else for it but to begin again - slowly - one spadeful at a time. I am pleased to have been able to put a few crops in the ground, at least - and there is always another season...

I've been developing a herb plot near the house, and I am pleased with how it is turning out. The hens also like to hang out under the trees here, so some protection is needed from foraging chooks.

In other news - we have sold the cattle. It was a hard decision, as they have been such a  well-loved part of our lives here. But looking ahead, realistically, it is unlikely John will be able to get back to active crofting, and looking after them involves a lot of work - particularly in the Winter. With a heavy heart, I put them up for sale, and within the week a deal was done. Happily, they are going to be part of a new Dexter herd in another part of Scotland, where the grass is lush and the Winters are kinder.

 The sheep too, will be going for sale next month. Another hard decision, but better for us and for them at this time. It is not what we planned at all, but this is where we are right now.

So - our focus is on the cancer treatment - the next cycle of chemotherapy is in a few days time. We don't know what the eventual outcome will be, and whether livestock will feature again in our lives, but - its not a bad place to be while we wait... xx